


Ripper

by UglyBarnacle



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:23:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UglyBarnacle/pseuds/UglyBarnacle
Summary: An story with a character that I intended to be a fan character for RotG.ChucklingDevil, he never would have turned into such a compelling character without you.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChucklingDevil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChucklingDevil/gifts).



Demons. Demons were the worst of all creatures.

The pristine gleam of a well-cared for loafer reflected dully from the shadows. It was the only hint of the presence of an unknown gentleman in a vast ballroom. If undetected espionage was his aim, then he had failed. A lone waiter had noted him standing so far off from the rest of the guests. Guests. The thought never once crossed the waiter's mind that this wasn't a guest at all. Simply a lonely man, or perhaps the guest was just tired of all of the noisy commotion, and wanted to take a rest.

They sought to commit the most vile actions. 

When it was time, or at least, when the 'guest' thought it was time, he took a seat at an abandoned table, with only the stained napkins and barren plates to indicate that there was ever anyone there in the first place. From his spot, he could see the center-most table, with all of the guests of honor sitting in one place. This made his job so much easier.

The most depraved things.

He slipped a box of cigarettes from the dress pants the had bought for the occasion, fitting a single packet of nicotine, between his lips. It was just then that he remembered to check if he had sat in the right place. Smoking area was emboldened on a sign on the wall behind him. How lucky he was! 

They would be comfortable doing anything evil under the sun, if they could think of it. Should anybody give them the opportunity.

There, in the very middle seat, was the just the man he was looking for. The demon he was looking for. Look it him. Swathed with silk garments and a burgundy suit. The chain of a monocle hung down against his sluggish, umber chin. He even had a little purple handkerchief folded so the corner hung out of the pocket. Even if it wasn't for the fact that he was responsible for slaughtering a handful of innocent humans for the sake of a bet with an equally rich peer, the man would imagine his death just because of that sickening fashion sense.

They proved their wickedness every day.

This was the first time he had taken on one of the higher ups. He had hated them just as much as the ones who were practically unknown. How else was he able to get away with it all? Who would care to investigate their deaths? Not that their corpse would stick around to be scrutinized... Furthermore, was he even ready? Would he be able to deal with heightened attention? Would he mess up along the line and finally be caught? Would he mess up this time?

He was doing them all a favor.

The commotion was dying down. He had better do this now, or regret missing this chance for the rest of his life?  
-Pffffffpt-!  
The noise of a poisoned needle couldn't possibly be heard with all of the hubbub. But the noise of the panicked screams certainly could be. It appeared as if he had gotten him. No, wait.. His head, once lulled back, was straightened again. He could hear him saying something over the hushed silence.  
"I-guh.. ggegh.. .hagh..." He stood up! Stood up, and began hobbling aimlessly away from his chair. His attacker was sure to keep his face as shocked as everybody else's. That was something he devoted hours into making sure he'd remember.  
"....gggaaaaaaawwwhh..." Whatever he said was lost in translation, his brain doing a poor job of conveying his thoughts as words with a needle seeping poison into it. And.. there he goes. Went. Collapsed onto the floor. It seemed the poison had finally kicked in. 

They were so miserable.

Well, he didn't want to be the only one running from the scene. That would look suspicious.  
And so, with a push of a trigger hidden in the button of his vest, the assassin made his well-placed bombs go off, sending tables and silverware flying everywhere. A stray succubus, her dress dusted with.. dust, sprinted off for the door, and slipped on a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Stupid bitch.  
If he sat here looking at the mayhem for too long, he was going to start to look suspicious. Pushing out his chair, he made a jog for the exit. He had always denied it, but anyone who witnessed him running would comment that it looked girly and effeminate. He made sure to avoid that slippery tray of appetizers, but stepped in the poor succubus's hair in the process. 

How did he know?

He happened to pass the guest list as he made his way out of the building. He was sure glad that he remembered not to put his real name in that little book, which he had almost done out of force of habit. There were no vehicles outside, as no one here needed one. Not when they had a natural speed that surpassed the human's mechanical carts.

He was one himself.

Picking up his speed, the foul, scarlet creature dashed off down the road, into the cold darkness of the night.


End file.
